Gleetown
by myfeetlitup
Summary: Pleasantville AU. Blaine and his step-sister Santana get sucked into Blaine's favorite TV show "Gleetown", set in the idyllic 50s. It turns out not everyone is so happy all the time, and Blaine and Santana both have their own fears to face. Kurt/Blaine, Brittany/Santana, Carole/Burt, and Blaintana friendship.
1. Chapter 1

"Blaine, you and your hideous bowtie need to go upstairs, now."

Blaine looked up from the sheet music he was currently making notes on.

"Uh…why?"

"Because," Santana snapped, "Puckerman told me he'd be here at six, which means he'll be here at six-fifteen, and I needs the extra time to get the room ready for our mack session."

"I have plans-"

Santana rolled her eyes. "No, you don't, loneliest gay kid in the county. Your hair isn't even shellacked down right now, and it's not like I'd believe you're actually hooking up with someone anyway."

"There's a _Gleetown_ marathon on at six. It starts in five minutes. I'm not going anywhere. Can't you and Puck just use your room?"

"No," Santana said, sneering at him, "we like to put some girl-on-girl on the TV while we go at it, so get a move on." She leaned down and grabbed the remote, pressing a button. The image changed from a commercial to two bleached blonde women moaning and kissing each other.

Blaine sighed and stood up. He'd been looking forward to this _Gleetown_ marathon all week. He was sick of watching kids get picked on at school, with only the outlet of his boxing to deal with his anger and memories of his own terrifying past, and not doing anything about it. He was tired of the apathetic teachers, seeing girls' names scribbled in crude poetry in the bathroom stalls, watching jocks like Puck tape helpless freshmen to the flag pole. His only escape until he graduated and left Lima, Ohio was _Gleetown_. The show might be in black and white and set in an idealistic version of the fifties, but everyone was pleasant and considerate. Characters were happy and comfortable. It was just nice to imagine himself in such a world: where being polite and courteous was appreciated, not laughed at, and people tried to do right by each other rather than hurt each other.

After he was attacked at a Sadie Hawkins dance for attending with another boy, Blaine had turned to three things to recover, aside from the hospital: therapy, boxing, and _Gleetown_. Since Santana was one of the biggest bullies at their school, he wasn't about to let her ruin the marathon for him, not when she could drag Puck upstairs to have sex instead.

"Santana," he said evenly, "I'm not going anywhere." He grabbed the remote and tried to pull it from her grasp, but she tightened her hold on it, and her other hand came down around his wrist, her nails sinking into his skin.

"I will ends you," Santana hissed, "I don't care if our parents are married; I will claw your face off right now."

Blaine pulled harder. "You may push people around at school, but I've dealt with lots worse than you," he said, "You hook up with Puck all the time; why are you being so stubborn about this?!"

"It's none of your goddamn business, Blaine!" Santana shrieked. "If you're pathetic enough to stay home and watch a TV show because you're too scared to go be a normal person-"

"I'm not scared!" Blaine shouted, jerking the remote from her grasp just as he hit the power button and the TV turned off. It flew across the room and hit the wall, breaking into several pieces.

"You are such a spaz," Santana snarled, stomping in her heels over to the TV to switch it on.

Blaine fisted his hands into his curls in frustration. "You can't turn it on like that; you need the remote."

Santana crossed her arms and glared at him. "Well, you'd better fix it quick, because I'm about to go all Lima Heights."

"Your dad is a doctor," Blaine grumbled as he walked over to the broken remote, "and I'll figure something out so I can watch _Gleetown_."

Santana opened her mouth to reply, but just then the doorbell rang.

"Shit, he's actually on time," Santana said, brushing past Blaine to answer the door, "when I get back, you better be gone, freak."

"The TV doesn't work anyway; just go upstairs," Blaine said stubbornly.

When he heard Santana's "Who the hell are you?", he went to investigate.

Puck wasn't at the door. A tall blond woman with sharp features stood there, wearing a red and white track suit. She smiled. It made Blaine feel a little uncomfortable for some reason.

"TV repair?"

Santana looked surprised, but then pleased. "Uh, yeah, actually. The remote's busted."

"Lead the way," the woman said, "my name is Sue."

Blaine gestured for her to come inside and let her and Santana walk in front of him into the TV room.

"What were you kids planning on watching, anyway?"

Blaine smirked at the color on Santana's cheeks but decided to save her from coming up with a lie. "There's a _Gleetown_ marathon on tonight."

Sue's eyes narrowed. "_Gleetown_! That's an old show. I'm a big fan. You like it?"

"He breathes it," Santana said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's my favorite," Blaine said, smiling.

Sue took the broken remote from Blaine when he offered it. She pursed her lips, as if in thought. "What's your favorite thing about _Gleetown_?"

Santana sighed impatiently, examining her nails. "Are we really doing this?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "Just…how happy it is. There needs to be more happiness like that in the world. And I just like how people treat each other, with kindness and courtesy."

"Interesting…" Sue said, and Blaine couldn't help but be a little unnerved. "What's your favorite episode?"

"I don't think I could really pick," Blaine confessed, "I love them all. They're showing the one where Skip wins the basketball game and Rachel gives him a plate of cookies afterward. I like that one."

"D'you remember what kind of cookies she gives him?"

"Peanut butter chocolate chip."

"That's right." Sue's eyes seemed to narrow even more as she stopped examining the remote and looked at Blaine fully. "Where does Skip take Finn to study for the big geometry test he's afraid he's going to fail?"

"The basketball court."

"And where does Bobby-Jean go to buy her dress for junior prom?"

"Hatman's."

"Ah!" Sue smirked. "Wrong. It's Herman's."

Blaine laughed. "No, Hatman's! Remember?" He sang the jingle: "Hatman's: Making every girl a princess!"

Sue stared at him. "That's right," she said slowly, "you're right."

Santana snapped her gum loudly. "Look, are you going to do your job and fix the remote or what? Unlike the two of you, I have a life."

Sue glanced at her, and then reached into her bag. "We just got a new product in. A universal remote. Maybe you'd like to give it a try? Free of charge." She pulled out a shiny black remote, covered with dozens of buttons.

"Free of charge?" Blaine asked. "That's very nice of you, but we couldn't-"

"We'll take it," Santana said, and she grabbed the remote from Sue, giving her a saccharine smile. "Thanks. You can go now. Like, right now. I have a meathead coming over any minute to get naked with."

"You kids have a nice night," Sue said, her voice light and her smile a little mysterious.

"What a strange lady," Blaine mused as Sue let herself out.

"Yeah, a weirdo just like you." Santana clicked the remote and the two women came back on the screen, naked and rubbing against each other on a table top. Blaine grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Skip and Bobby-Jean were playing tug-o-war with the radio.

"Get lost," Santana said, grabbing the remote and trying to yank it away.

"Are we really doing this again?" Blaine said, exasperated. He tightened his grip.

"He's going to be here any second!"

"She gave us this remote because I like _Gleetown_; now-"

But as Santana pulled, Blaine's finger slipped and hit a button, and suddenly everything went…black and white.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine stared down at the radio in his hands. His hands, which were in shades of grey, black, and white.

"Oh my God," came Santana's stunned voice, "What is…am I high?"

Blaine looked up at her. When their eyes met, hers widened in dawning horror. "Oh my God," Blaine echoed her, taking in her neatly buttoned cardigan, the string of pearls around her neck, the pristine, perfectly arranged curls framing her face and falling no lower than her neck.

"What the fuck?" Santana whispered, her eyes darting around until she found a mirror and rushed over to it. Blaine glanced down at himself: freshly-ironed pants, a white dress shirt, a letterman's cardigan, and of course a bow tie. All in black and white and grey.

"What the hell is going on?!" Santana yelped, pressing her hands to her face as she stared in the mirror.

"Just calm down," Blaine told her, despite his own thundering heart.

"What the hell is this, Blaine?! What did you do to me? Tell me right now, goddamnit!"

"Hey!" A familiar voice barked, though it sounded distorted. Blaine wheeled around and his mouth dropped open. Sue, the TV repair lady, was staring up at them from inside the screen of an old-fashioned television. Blaine glanced at Santana and they both rushed to the TV, kneeling in front of it.

"That kind of language isn't allowed around here, missy," Sue said, glaring at Santana. "So you'd better put a sock in it. Maybe grab one from where you've obviously stuffed them in your shirt."

Santana gasped, clutching at her breasts. "Listen, hag, this is all real."

"Santana, now isn't the time to have a debate about your implants," Blaine said, "in case you haven't noticed, we're in black and white! And obviously not at home!"

"Yes, Toto, I know we're not in Kansas anymore," she snapped, and then turned back towards Sue, "and I wants some answers. No! I want out of here, right now!"

"Santana, please," Blaine muttered. He squared his shoulders and looked Sue in the eye, scarcely believing what was happening.

"Please, Sue…can you tell us what's going on?"

"Such a well-mannered boy," Sue said approvingly, "you'll fit right in this throwback paradise. Congratulations, Eyebrows! You're in _Gleetown_."

"WHAT?!" Santana and Blaine exclaimed simultaneously.

"Hey," Sue said, frowning, "you don't seem very pleased about this. I thought you loved the show. You said you wished the world was more like _Gleetown_. Well, now your world **is** _Gleetown_!"

"Why would I be pleased about this?!" Blaine shouted. "I'm in black and white! I'm in a TV show! It's set in the fifties; I'm gay, Sue! Do you know what it was like for gay people in the fifties?!"

"You may be gay," Sue said, her eyes narrowing, "but you're in _Gleetown_ now. "Gay" doesn't exist here. Sex doesn't exist here. So I guess you have nothing to worry about."

"That's not how it works! Get us out of here right now!"

"I must say, you've hurt my feelings," Sue said softly, looking off to the left. "I think I should go…"

"No, you can't go! Let us out," Santana demanded.

"Yes, I think I should give you two some time to think about what I've done for you. Maybe try for a little gratefulness. Not even a thank you…"

"We-we're sorry," Blaine said desperately, "don't go!"

The screen turned to static.

"No!" Santana yelled, banging her hand against the screen. Blaine reached forward and turned the dial frantically. Static. Static. Static.

"Rise and shine, citizens of Gleetown! It looks like it's going to be another beautiful, perfectly pleasant day! The forecast is clear skies and happiness!" The weatherman on the screen said, gesturing to the smiling cardboard cartoon suns behind him.

"This isn't happening," Santana stuttered. "I have a date with Puckerman. I'm on the rise to the top of the popularity food-chain at school. I am a hot piece of ass living in the year 2012, not a prude from the fifties! This isn't happening!" She grabbed Blaine's shirtfront and yanked him forward. "Fix it! Fix it now!"

"I don't know what to do-"

"This is your little bizarro world; you get me out of here right now, Blaine, or I will choke you with that bowtie!"

Blaine pulled away. "Santana! Get it together. We're just going to have to…play along, act out the show until I figure something out, okay?"

"I can't," Santana said, looking a little wild-eyed, "I can't be a little prissy thing, I can't, I'm going to swear and attack someone at some point; you know this about me-"

"Kids! What are you doing watching TV in the morning? It's time for breakfast!"

Blaine and Santana turned to look at the man speaking to them from the hall. It was Mr. Russell Fabray, Skip and Bobby-Jean's father. He folded his newspaper, looking at them with a fond smile. Blaine recited his next words along with him in his head:

"You'd better hurry up, or you'll be late for school."

"O-of course, Father," Blaine said, finding his head first.

"Atta boy, Skip," Mr. Fabray said, disappearing again.

"Yeah, God forbid we miss school," Santana said, rolling her eyes, "what a fucking tragedy."

"Okay, you need to cut out the swearing if we're going to pull this off," Blaine said, "Bobby-Jean is a nice girl. Prim and proper."

"Yeah, I can tell," Santana said, looking down at her modest outfit in disgust.

Blaine sighed, straightening out his cardigan and bowtie. "Let's just…go have breakfast and then try a day of school. Hopefully, we can get through it, and maybe Sue will let us go. I'll try to figure out what to do."

"This is insane," Santana hissed, but she let him lead her down the hall and into the kitchen.

Carole Fabray looked up from where she was scooping pancakes off the frying pan on the stove. "Good morning, sweetheart, darling!"

Mr. Fabray tipped his newspaper down to look at Blaine and Santana with another fond smile.

"There you are, kids! Your mom has made all your favorites."

Mrs. Fabray smiled, tilting her head. She removed her apron and smoothed her hands over her neat dress.

"Uh, gee, thanks…thank you, Mom-Mother," Santana managed, eyeing the spread on the table. "I'm not really hungry though, so I think I'll head to school."

"Nonsense, Bobby-Jean! A growing girl like you needs a big breakfast to start out her day," Mrs. Fabray tutted. She guided Santana to sit down, and began to heap food on her plate: a stack of pancakes, a piece of French toast, two eggs, sunny-side up, four sausages, three strips of bacon.

Despite the situation, Blaine had to cover his smile at the look on Santana's face as Mrs. Fabray poured heaps of syrup on top of everything. If she could have been a color, he was sure it would have been green.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm gonna puke," Santana groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach over the thick wool of her high-waist skirt.

"You won't," Blaine assured her, looking around as they walked down the street, "not here."

"I ate so many carbs…we'd better get out of here soon, or I'll be a heifer in a week…" Santana trailed off as an old man watering his lawn called out, "Good morning, Skip!" and Blaine waved and answered him.

"Oh, uh, good morning Mr. Jones!"

"You know that guy?"

Blaine nodded. "Mr. Jones. He's the Fabray's neighbor. Skip mows his lawn for ten cents." He smiled and waved one more time.

"Jesus," Santana muttered, tugging at her sweater, "you're actually enjoying this, aren't you? Right in your element. Big man on campus in this ridiculously bland and boring place. I already can't stand it."

An open-top car drove up beside them and slowed to a stop.

"Morning, Bobby-Jean, Skip!"

Santana glanced at the car. In the driver's seat sat a dopey-faced guy with dark hair wearing a letterman's jacket. He raised an arm to wave at her. Her gaze quickly slid to the passenger riding with him: a blonde girl who was smiling up at her. She had a sweet, innocent face, her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and her long, lithe body was clad in what appeared to be an old-fashioned cheerleading outfit. A pair of pom-poms rested in her lap.

"M-morning," Santana stammered, caught off guard.

The guy driving spoke again. "Excited for the big game this weekend?"

"Sure…am," she muttered.

"Great! I hope I see you in the stands cheering us on!"

"Cheering can be hard," the blond girl said wisely, "but I can give you lessons."

"See you at school, Bobby-Jean!" The boy called as he drove away. The blond girl smiled and waved.

"Who is that?" Santana asked, staring as they drove away.

"Who? The girl or the boy?"

Santana whirled on Blaine. She didn't like his tone, like he knew something she didn't.

"The boy, obviously. He's…" She struggled to remember what he looked like. A big guy with dark hair…sitting next to a beautiful girl. "…cute."

"That's Finn Hudson. Quarterback of the football team and captain of the basketball team."

"So he's the _real_ big man on campus," Santana mused as they started walking again. She pursed her lips. "Is he dating the girl he was with?"

"Nope. That's Brittany, his sister. Finn actually likes you. Well, he likes Bobby-Jean."

A smirk spread across Santana's face. "Of course he does."

* * *

Blaine stared around at his team mates, all dressed in old-fashioned short basketball shorts, high socks, and jerseys, as they ran around the gym during practice. Every lay-up, every drill was perfect. No one ever missed a shot. He bounced the ball in his hand easily, glancing around as he dribbled it to half court. With a casual loop of his arm, he tossed the ball, and it sailed into the hoop, nothing but net. It bounced back to him. Laughing a little, he turned so his back was facing the net and hurled it over his head. Through the hoop it went.

"Skip, hey, Skip!"

Finn bounded over to him eagerly, like a giant puppy, just as he was catching his ball again.

"Hello, Finn. How's practice?"

"Oh, just swell. I think we're all set for the big game on Saturday."

"Looks that way."

"Say, Skip…I wanted to talk to you about…Bobby-Jean." Finn scratched the back of his neck, scuffing his toe against the floorboards of the gymnasium.

"Bobby – oh, is that the episode we're in?"

Finn looked confused. "Huh?"

"Never mind," Blaine told him, scolding himself inwardly, "what did you want to talk about, Finn?"

"Well, I think Bobby-Jean is just…swell. She's pretty, and nice, and she has tons of school spirit. She…she's always at the games, cheering in the stands. I think she'd make a real swell cheerleader. I just think-"

"Finn," Blaine interrupted him, smiling to himself, "do you want to ask Bobby-Jean out?"

"Oh! Oh, well, I…" Finn looked down, bashful. "I was thinking of asking her to go with me to Hummel's after school today."

"Hummel's Diner! Ski – I work there as a soda jerk!"

Finn looked at him funny. "Yeah, Skip, I know. Anyway, I thought I'd talk to you first, seeing as you're her big brother. I know how big brothers like to look out for their sisters."

Blaine figured it was best to keep the plot moving. Hopefully it would please Sue and she'd let him and Santana return to the real world.

"Well, Finn, you and I are buds. And I know you're a nice fellow who will treat Bobby-Jean right. I'm sure she'd be glad to be your date."

Finn grinned. "Thanks, Skip!"

"Sure thing, Finn." As Finn walked away, Blaine kicked his basketball high in the air. It bounced off the bleachers and swished through the net once again.

* * *

Santana sat in geography class, examining her nails and trying very hard not to keep looking to her left, where Brittany sat two rows over, listening intently to the teacher.

"Class, now that we've talked about Baker Street, we're going to talk about Main Street," Miss Pillsbury said, using a yardstick to trace along the simple map she had drawn on the chalkboard, "Please pay close attention, as things are getting more complicated now!"

Several students wiggled in their seats at this, and Santana rolled her eyes when someone exclaimed, "Oh boy!" softly.

"Now, can anyone tell me one difference between Baker Street and Main Street?"

A boy with blond hair and a humongous mouth raised his hand.

"Yes, Sam?"

"Well, I live on Baker Street, and Jake lives on Main Street."

Miss Pillsbury smiled brightly. "Very good, Sam! Some people live on Baker Street, while different people live on Main Street. And we all live in Gleetown."

Santana stared in amazement at all the stupidity around her as several people clapped and the boy behind Sam patted him on the shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, she raised her hand.

"Yes, Bobby-Jean?"

"Yeah," Santana drawled, "what's outside of Gleetown?"

Everyone in the class turned to look at her. Miss Pillsbury blinked her giant bush-baby eyes in confusion. "I-I don't understand your question, Bobby-Jean."

"I mean, like…what's at the end of Main Street?"

People started to giggle. Miss Pillsbury smiled at her indulgently.

"Oh, Bobby-Jean." She traced her yardstick along Main Street. "Why, the end of Main Street is the beginning of Baker Street!"

Santana fought the urge to march up and snap her yardstick in half as her classmates tittered. So much for pleasant and courteous.

When class let out, it took Santana a minute to realize someone was trying to get her attention.

"Bobby-Jean! Bobby-Jean!"

Santana looked over her shoulder and stopped in her tracks. Brittany was running towards her, her curly pony tail bouncing and her cheerleading skirt swishing around her calves.

"Oh, hi, Brittany," Santana said, hugging her books to her chest as Brittany fell into step beside her with a smile.

"I just wanted to say I thought you were really brave to ask your question in class today. I get confused sometimes, too. Geography is hard. And sometimes when I say things, people laugh at me, too."

"Well, they shouldn't," Santana snapped, ignoring the fact that she was a giant hypocrite, considering how often she mocked people at McKinley. "No one should be laughing at you. I thought people were supposed to be painfully nice around here."

"I don't mind. I like it when people are happy. Anyway, I thought we could study together for the geography test on Baker Street next week. Since we're both confused, we can help each other! You can come over to my house. How about tomorrow after school?"

"I…yes, that sounds nice, Brittany. Thanks for asking me," Santana murmured, feeling shy. She frowned. She never felt shy.

"Oh boy! It'll be swell, just you wait. Maybe my brother will even be home," Brittany said, and, with a nudge of her shoulder against Santana's, she skipped off.

Santana's eyes roved over her form as she bounced away. She swallowed, feeling her cheeks burning, and then looked away, shaking her head.

She spotted Brittany's brother – Fred? – a head taller than everyone else, staring at her from across the hall. Her lip curled up into half a smile as she squared her shoulders and made her way over to him. Not even an alternate reality was going to stop Santana Lopez from being Queen Bee.


End file.
